


Draco

by Magicofisis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Romance, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-28
Updated: 2005-12-28
Packaged: 2018-10-27 18:16:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magicofisis/pseuds/Magicofisis
Summary: All Draco wants is a little revenge for the wrongs Potter has done to him.  How could it possibly be this difficult?





	Draco

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: **Notes:** Warning for attempted non-con, but considering that I don’t read non-con, I can assure you that everything turns out okay. Many thanks to Kate for the speedy and tremendously helpful beta. Oh, and [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=shocolate)[**shocolate**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/shocolate/), don't read this; you already know the plot and it's not canon.  
  
Cross posted to [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=harry_and_ron)[**harry_and_ron**](http://www.livejournal.com/community/harry_and_ron/)  


* * *

  
He could remember the conversation like it was yesterday:  
  
“You’re dead, Potter…”  
  
No one got away with treating a Malfoy like that. Draco was going to make him pay for his smugness, for putting Father in Azkaban and for every other transgression he’d made against him to date.  
  
Draco had wanted to kill him, but word had gotten out that the Dark Lord was intent on personally killing Harry Potter; it wouldn’t do to steal the Dark Lord’s thunder. There were a number of torture spells Draco could perform, except that they tended to leave telltale traces of magic behind – magical signatures, if you will – that could be linked back to him. As Dumbledore’s pet, Potter was certain to seek assistance in finding his attacker. Draco didn’t think it was wise to be thrown out of Hogwarts at this point.  
  
That left him with no other option than to come up with a cunning plan, wherein he could make Potter suffer a lot without doing anything that would get him expelled if caught. He was a Slytherin, after all – cunning plans were his specialty. The trick would be to get Potter into trouble without being directly involved. In order to do that, he’d have to work through someone else. But how could he make someone do what he wanted…unless…  
  
Draco Malfoy spent most of his free time that summer learning the Imperius Curse.  
  
~*~*~  
  
The four of them were in the dormitory, having successfully led a new crop of arrogant brats down to the Slytherin common room from the Welcoming Feast in the Great Hall. Crabbe and Zabini were watching with amusement as Draco made Goyle tap dance, curtsy and then pick his nose. They seemed suitably impressed with Draco’s new skills and laughed heartily when he made Goyle kneel at his feet and refer to him as ‘Lord Malfoy.’  
  
“Shit, Draco, don’t do that again. It’s embarrassing,” said Goyle after Draco ended the spell.  
  
“I didn’t make you do anything too embarrassing. We were just having a laugh. There’s a good sport.” Draco smiled, secretly pleased at how well his little demonstration had worked.  
  
Blaise rolled his eyes, never ceasing to be amazed at how nasty Malfoy was. “Well, it’s all very entertaining, but why on earth did you spend all that time learning a curse that you can’t use in public?”  
  
Draco sat on the corner of his bed and looked at them. “Revenge. I’m going to make Potter do things to get himself in so much trouble that they’ll have to expel him. Plus, I can embarrass the hell out of him.”  
  
Crabbe looked at the others nervously. “There’s just one problem with that.” Draco spun his head around quickly to glare at him. “Potter can throw off Imperius.” Crabbe lowered is voice until he was nearly whispering. “Dad told me he saw the Dark Lord try to use it on him and it didn’t work. And no offense, Draco, but if the Dark Lord can’t do it, then I don’t see how you’re going to be able to.”  
  
“Damn it! You’re sure?” snapped Draco. Crabbe nodded. “Is there anything that wanker can’t do to protect himself?”  
  
“Why not just make one of his friends attack him? Gryffindorks are known to act rashly – no one would ever think that you’re behind it.”  
  
Goyle chuckled. “Yeah, who’d ever expect Longbottom to go after him – he’s too busy licking Potter’s boots.”  
  
Draco shook his head. “No, it can’t be Longbottom. I don’t think being under Imperius improves your spellcasting, and I can’t chance him blowing me up by accident. I think it will have to be Weaselby.” A wide grin crossed Draco’s face. “It’s perfect, really. Attack Potter and humiliate Weasley in one go.”  
  
“What are you going to make him do?”  
  
“I don’t know yet. But you won’t want to miss the show when I do it.”  
  
~*~*~  
  
Draco practically ran to the Slytherin table and dropped into the tiny space between Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott. His so-called friends were all enjoying a good laugh at his expense, and he was not amused.  
  
“She wants you, mate,” sneered Nott. “But you’d better hope she doesn’t throw herself at you or you might just suffocate.” Everyone around Draco dissolved into uproarious laughter as Draco’s face turned from alabaster to bright pink.  
  
“Fuck you all,” he spat.  
  
“Come on, Draco,” sneered Crabbe, “she’s just looking for a little fun. She’d probably suck you off between classes if you’d let her.”  
  
Draco was not finding this harassment amusing in the least. “If you think I’m letting Millicent Bulstrode anywhere near my dick, then you’re a bigger fool than Weasley.” He glanced at Pansy who had a disgusted look on her face. “What’s the matter with you?”  
  
“God, Draco, you don’t know what it’s like. She talks about you in her sleep. It’s revolting, some of the things she says. I think one of these days she’s just going to hold you down and rape you.”  
  
Draco blanched. He expected the boys to wind him up, but Pansy was his friend and something told him she wasn’t kidding about this. Millicent Bulstrode was stalking him – Draco knew that – but he was starting the get the idea that she was dangerous. Not only was she a good hundred pounds heavier than he was, but she was also slightly mad and a Slytherin. He was fairly sure of his ability to protect himself, but the whole episode was rapidly moving from “embarrassing” to “humiliating.” He could only imagine what the other Houses were saying about him. Millicent Bulstrode – fuck. The only thing that could make it worse would be if Millicent were a boy. At least he didn’t have to worry about being called a queer.  
  
Draco glanced up from his dinner and saw Potter standing directly behind Weasley, trying to look over the Weasel’s shoulder at a paper of some sort. Weren’t they just a couple of… a couple… yes! He knew that Weasley had gone on dates with a few girls – he’d been bragging about it in the Prefect’s car on the Hogwarts Express – so Draco didn’t think he was gay. He had no idea about Potter. But thanks to the Imperius Curse, Potter was just about to get himself his own stalker. And Weaselby was about to find out about alternative lifestyles first hand. Draco rubbed his hands together, thanking Circe that he was a Slytherin.  
  
~*~*~  
  
With all the crap Harry had going on in his life, why did he have to deal with this too? After an entire summer spent alone with only his disparaging thoughts and his Defense Against the Dark Arts books to keep him company, Harry had been looking forward to spending quality time with Ron and Hermione. But Hermione was on some sort of a quest to read every book in the library before she left Hogwarts, and Ron – God, Ron had discovered girls. It wasn’t as if Ron was doing anything about this new obsession – it was more that he seemed to be preoccupied with girls and sex all the time. Apparently, while Harry had been holed up at the Dursleys’ for the summer, Ron had met a Muggle girl in Ottery St. Catchpole who had let him kiss her. According to Ginny, it hadn’t amounted to much more than that, but now Ron had an idea about the benefits of a girlfriend and he seemed to talk about finding one constantly.  
  
It wouldn’t have been so bad, except for the fact that Harry was most definitely not interested in girls. Cho had been a nice little experiment last year, but as he’d had time to reflect, Harry realized she’d sort of pushed him into something he wasn’t ready to deal with. Now that he had a bit more perspective, he knew that he and Cho would never have lasted together anyway. He simply found boys more attractive – particularly redheaded boys who happened to sleep in the same dormitory. If Harry was going to date anyone, it was unlikely to be a girl. He could almost hear Uncle Vernon’s voice in his head saying, “So you’re a queer, are you? I’m glad we kept you apart from Dudley all these years. Should have known you’d be abnormal in that way, too.”  
  
Harry feigned interest in Ron’s running monologue on the virtues of Lavender Brown’s breasts, while in reality, he was watching Ron’s lips move, watching Ron’s tongue dart out to lick them as they curved into an inviting smile. Well, Harry figured it would have been inviting if Ron were the least bit interested in boys.  
  
Ron stopped talking in mid-sentence. With furrowed brows he looked quizzically at Harry. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”  
  
“Like what? I’m just listening.”  
  
Ron let out a half-laugh. “No you’re not. You’re staring at me. I bet you don’t even know what I’ve been talking about.”  
  
“Lavender Brown’s tits. It’s all you ever talk about.” Harry winced: he hadn’t meant that to sound as harsh as it did. Ron’s face fell. “No, wait Ron, I’m sorry. I was listening. Really.”  
  
Ron sat down on Harry’s bed, bending one knee and twisting his body just enough that a small patch of creamy white skin over his right hip was exposed. Harry had trouble moving his eyes away from it when Ron spoke.  
  
“Harry, I really think you should consider getting yourself a girlfriend. I know you’re under a lot of pressure, and sex can be a great stress-reliever, you know.”  
  
Harry laughed. “And how exactly would you know this? I didn’t think you’d persuaded anyone to go that far yet.”  
  
Ron blushed. “Well, maybe not yet… but I will.” He looked Harry over with a critical eye. “I bet the girls would go for you, though. You’re fit enough.”  
  
Harry had already decided to stay well in the closet about his sexual preferences, particularly where Ron was concerned. “Thanks, Ron. But I think I’ve got enough problems without adding girls into the mix.”  
  
As Ron continued to prattle on, Harry sighed. There was no point in even hoping for a chance to be with Ron. Harry was bound to die a virgin, because the way his lessons were going, there was no way he was going to defeat Voldemort. Still, the cadence of Ron’s voice was soothing, and it was nice just to be with him.  
  
~*~*~  
  
He found Potter and Weasley in the library. Having carefully scoped out an abandoned classroom with a perfect hiding spot near the door, all Draco had to do was wait until he had a clear shot at the Weasel. With all the traffic that night, though, it took nearly forty minutes before he could manage it.  
  
The trick with casting the Imperius Curse was to clear your brain of all other thoughts, lest you inadvertently pass along an unintentional command. After seeing Weaselby shake violently seconds after he’d said “ _Imperio_ ” as loud as he dared, Draco fought back the urge to test his accuracy by making him do cartwheels or sing _Sur le Pont d’Avignon_ while standing on one of the tables. (He’d have to remember to do that another time.) Potter glanced up at his friend and then returned to his reading; Weasel was waiting patiently for a command. Draco had put a lot of thought into this revenge, and he took a deep breath before executing his scheme.  
  
 _Think about being alone in a room with Madam Rosmerta who is wearing a scanty black bra and knickers._ Draco smiled as he watched Weasley’s eyes glaze over. _Now picture her coming on to you. Slide a hand under the table and rub your prick until you’re good and hard._ He appeared to be quite suggestible, because he quickly did as he was told, moving his hand almost imperceptibly. Draco figured Weasel was excited enough to move to the next phase when he bit down hard on his lower lip.  
  
Draco walked towards the doorway to the library, positioning himself to hide as they passed him. When he was ready, he commanded Weaselby to convince Potter to follow him. From his vantage point, he couldn’t tell what the two Gryffindors were saying, but it didn’t take long before they’d gotten up from their table and turned toward the exit. Draco told Weasley to go out the door and turn left, and then he quickly hid in a dark alcove until they passed.  
  
“What’s the big deal about an old portrait, anyway?” Potter was saying as they passed Draco’s alcove.  
  
“It’s wild – I’ve never seen one like it. Just trust me, Harry.” Ron spoke earnestly, and Draco would have been hard pressed to tell he was under Imperius had he not cast it himself.  
  
Yeah, trust him, thought Draco. From a position not far behind them, Draco maneuvered them through the castle to the abandoned classroom he’d found. _Now grab his arm and lead him over to the teacher’s desk_ , commanded Draco. Once they were distracted from the door, Draco was able to sneak inside and move to the hiding spot he’d found earlier.  
  
“So where’s this painting?” he heard Potter ask.  
  
At Draco’s command, Weasley turned his friend around roughly, placing a hand on each of Potter’s shoulders. The redhead had a good five inches on Potter, so he had to tilt his head to look him in the eye. _Tell him you brought him here under false pretenses and then kiss him hard on the lips._ Weasley hesitated, so Draco encouraged him. _Go on, kiss him hard now_.  
  
Weasley captured Potters lips, and Draco could see Potter’s eyes fly open wide at the contact. “Harry,” Weasel said breathlessly, “I brought you here under false pretenses.”  
  
 _Good boy. Now grab his face roughly with a hand on either cheek and pull him close to you. Then snog him hard, like it’s the last kiss you’ll ever have._ Draco hadn’t counted on being so turned on by the power of directing someone else’s sexual encounter. Weasley was practically removing Potter’s tonsils, and Potter appeared to be too surprised to remember to struggle. _Move your hands to his arse and pull him against your cock. You’re still hard, aren’t you? Rut on his leg a bit._  
  
Draco could hardly believe that Potter wasn’t putting up more of a fuss. If it had been him, he’d have been howling by now. Finally, Potter broke away.  
  
“Ron, what are you doing?” panted Potter.  
  
Draco had to bite back the insult on the tip of his tongue. _Answer him._  
  
“I know you don’t have much experience, Harry, but it should be rather obvious.”  
  
Potter tried to step away, but Weasley held him tight. Draco hadn’t told him to let go yet.  
  
Potter looked at Weasley as if he was a madman. “I know _that_. But what’s the matter with you? I thought you liked girls.”  
  
Draco was somewhat taken aback. Potter wasn’t protesting the kissing – he was thinking Weaselby to be insane. It couldn’t possibly mean that Potter wanted— that Potter was… _Ask him if he wants to kiss you_.  
  
“Don’t you want to kiss me, Harry?”  
  
Potter blinked twice and swallowed hard. “Yeah, actually I do. I’m just surprised.”  
  
 _Go on, kiss him then. Hard. Lots of biting._ Draco leaned back against the wall and thought for a moment. He certainly hadn’t counted on Potter _wanting_ it – that changed everything. He watched in horror as Potter hissed while Ron gave him a love bite on his collarbone. Damn, this wasn’t going to work if Potter was going to _enjoy_ it. Of course, Weasley would be mortified, and that fact alone made the risk of this escapade worthwhile. Maybe he should just focus on humiliating Weasel for a while.  
  
 _Strip him and then yourself_. Maybe Draco should just test Potter’s limits and see how far he was willing to go. No matter how far they went, it would be sure to embarrass them both in the morning and might possibly cause a rift between them. Hmmm, that had some promise.  
  
Potter didn’t protest the loss of his robes at all, but he did question the removal of his jumper at first. A simple “C’mon, Harry” from Weasley was all it took. Soon Potter was divested of his clothing. He looked unusually vulnerable, leaning against the teacher’s desk wearing nothing but a sizable erection and watching Weaselby remove his own clothing. If Draco had leaned that way at all, he would have said that Potter was attractive.  
  
 _Kiss him again. There’s a good boy. Now rub against him until he moans. Make him moan very loudly._ Draco felt himself getting hard just by watching the action. He knew he could make the Weasel suck Potter’s prick, but he wondered if Potter would willingly go down on Ron. _Ask him to suck you off._  
  
Weasley hesitated again. Another prompt from Draco had him begging, “Harry, please, I need to feel your mouth on me. Would you suck me off?”  
  
Without even having to ask twice, Potter dropped to his knees and began to lick and kiss and suck on Weaselby’s prick. He looked as if he was really enjoying it. _God, what a whore._  
  
“You’re such a good little whore,” moaned Weasley, as Potter took him all the way into his mouth. Draco cringed – he hadn’t meant for Weasley to say that. He’d have to pay closer attention to his thoughts.  
  
Potter stopped sucking instantly. “Is that what you think?” he asked with irritation. “That I’d do this for anybody?”  
  
 _Apologize quickly_. “No, no, Harry. I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean it. It just feels so good.”  
  
Potter went back to his task, and Draco couldn’t keep his hand away from his own cock as he watched Weasley get closer and closer to his climax. No, that couldn’t happen – he couldn’t have Weasel getting off so soon. _Pull his mouth away from you. Now!_  
  
Weasley whimpered as he extracted his cock from Potter’s mouth. He pulled Potter to his feet and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy. Their hips ground together and their lips met feverishly without Draco even having to say anything.  
  
Following Draco’s command, Weasley said, “Harry, stand over there by the desk and turn around so you’re facing the blackboard.”  
  
Potter did as he was told but asked, “Okay, but what are you going to do?”  
  
Weaselby was rummaging through his robes to find his wand. When he had done so, he followed Draco’s orders and came over to stand directly behind Potter, so that his weeping erection was wedged between the Golden Boy’s arse cheeks.  
  
He pushed Potter forward so that he was leaning on the desk with his arms supporting most of his weight. Repeating the words Draco told him to say, Weasley purred, “I’m going to fuck you so hard the whole castle will hear you scream.”  
  
Harry squirmed and tried to break away, but Draco had anticipated that this might be the limit, and he told Weasel to keep a firm grip and not let him go.  
  
“Ron,” said Harry, with panic evident in his voice, “I’m not…I don’t want—”  
  
“Sorry, Harry, did you think this was all about what you want? Because tonight, it’s about what I want. And what I want is to bugger your arse.” Draco commanded him to cast a spell, and before Potter knew what hit him, his chest was lying flat on the desk because his wrists had been bound and secured, one to each leg of the desk. His legs were free, and even though Draco wasn’t inclined that way, he could admit that Potter looked like a delicious feast, laid out and begging to be taken.  
  
Potter was protesting, begging the Weasel to reconsider. Draco could tell Weasley was hesitating, and it wouldn’t do to have him resist at this point, especially now that he’d finally got Potter’s queer little fantasy back to something dark and violent. Draco tried a different tack with his commands. _Don’t listen to his words. He really wants this. He sucked you off so willingly. Touch his arse and thighs. Watch them tremble._  
  
As expected, Weasley followed his order and Potter did indeed tremble at his touch. Of course, this might have been from fear as much as want.  
  
“You like this, don’t you, Harry?” Weasel breathed into his ear. “You want me to have my way with you.”  
  
“No, Ron, let me go…” Potter sounded almost desperate.  
  
Draco told Weasley to lick a path along Potter’s spine and bite him hard on the arse. When he did so, Harry moaned. _See how he wants you? Bite his shoulder and pinch his nipples hard. He likes the pain – he gets off on it. Say filthy things to him and wrap your hand around his prick so that you can see how much he loves it._  
  
“I love to watch you moan and writhe under me, Harry.” Draco could hear Potter whimper as Weasel’s hand slid around to grab his cock. “I’m trying to imagine how good it will feel when I push all the way inside your tight little hole. I bet you want that even more than I do, you little slut. You can’t wait to have me buried balls deep in your arse, pounding into you so hard you won’t be able to walk without thinking about me. Because you belong to me now.”  
  
“Don’t do this, Ron,” Potter pleaded.  
  
Draco was surprised when he heard the words coming out of Weasley’s mouth – he never expected his order to be carried out with such enthusiasm. Potter was terrified of his friend. Draco’s revenge was working out much better than he’d originally planned. _Now use your hands to spread him wide and fuck him the way he wants you to._  
  
Weaselby’s cock was so engorged at this point, however, that there was no way he was going to be able to thrust inside of Potter the way he’d been commanded to. He repeatedly pushed against Potter’s hole, but couldn’t get in. Draco had heard something about needing to stretch the hole before taking it up the arse, but he’d thought that was just for comfort and he wanted it to hurt Potter as much as possible.  
  
He’d just given Weasley the order to lick his fingers and stick them up Potter’s arse when there was a loud crack and Weaselby was thrown backwards about ten feet. Potter then stood up, the ropes binding him having been dissolved or banished. Damn, how in the name of Circe had he managed that?  
  
Draco crouched in his hiding place until Potter had dressed and swept out of the room. He pointed his wand at Weasley, who was still in shock and huddled on the floor, and ended the spell. Weaselby looked around, dazed and wondering how he’d gotten to be where he was, before dressing quickly and leaving the room.  
  
Only after he was certain that Weasley was well out of sight did Draco chuckle to himself, “That went well.” He took care of his own straining erection before returning triumphant to his dormitory.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Ron didn’t see Harry for the rest of the night, and he missed him at breakfast the next morning. Ron arrived late to their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson because he had to get the things he’d left in the library. When he got to class, he found Harry settled between Neville and Hermoine.  
  
After the lesson, Harry stayed behind, obviously wanting to wait until Ron and Hermione left before he did. Ron was desperate to talk to him – to try to explain what had happened, even though he wasn’t exactly sure he could. He walked out the door and watched everyone except Harry leave before he went back inside.  
  
Harry held out his wand the moment he and Ron were alone in the classroom together. “Come to finish what you started last night? It won’t work; I’m armed and ready today.”  
  
“Harry, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. One minute I was revising in the library, and the next… it was almost like I was possessed.”  
  
“You were aware of what you were doing, right?” Harry glared at him, the coldest stare Ron had ever seen him give anyone.  
  
“Yeah, but I—”  
  
“You forget that I’ve been possessed, so I know what it feels like and that you can’t really remember anything you did. Forget it, Ron. That excuse isn’t flying with me.”  
  
He knew Harry had been angry, and Ron might have been a bit overzealous in his dealings with Harry the night before, but if Harry hadn’t liked what Ron was doing to him, he could have just said something, right? Why was he being so nasty? Ron didn’t want to lose his friendship with Harry over a misunderstanding about sex.  
  
“Harry,” he pleaded, “I said I was sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t really have control of myself last night. Anyway, I didn’t know you wouldn’t like it. You were being fairly encouraging for a while there.”  
  
Harry took a step closer so that they were only a few inches apart. His expression was so somber and intense that he seemed bigger than Ron, despite their height difference. “That was before you tried to rape me!”  
  
“Rape you? No, Harry, I was just—”  
  
Harry was on the verge of hyperventilating. “You had me bound to the desk and you were ignoring my pleas to stop – what else would you call it? Thank God Dumbledore has been teaching me wandless magic. I never thought I’d have to use it to protect myself from my so-called friend.”  
  
Ron’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. “Are you saying we’re not friends?”  
  
The glare that Harry flashed at Ron was so frosty, it caused him to shiver. “How am I supposed to be friends with someone who attacked me and said all those horrible things about me? No, Ron, we’re not friends anymore and I’ll tell you where you can stick your lame apology.”  
  
Harry stormed out the door, as angry as Ron had ever seen him. Damn – he actually thought Ron was going to rape him? Ron sank into one of the desks. Yeah, if he thought about it from Harry’s point of view, he could see how that might have seemed like rape. But rape was a violent act, and he didn’t feel violent about Harry at all. He cared about Harry a lot – loved him even, if the truth be told. He’d never hurt Harry. Or would he?  
  
Ron could remember the voice in his head telling him to hurt Harry, that Harry liked it that way. But why would Ron have thought that? Harry had never given him any reason to believe that he liked it rough. And anyway, why had the voice in his head insisted that he fool around with Harry in the first place? Ron was into girls, wasn’t he?  
  
With more questions than answers, Ron stumbled back to the dormitory. He had a free period while Harry and Hermione were in Potions. When you started hearing voices in your head, it wasn’t a good sign. Next time that happened, he was going to have to tell Madam Pomfrey.  
  
~*~*~  
  
There weren’t many students at the Gryffindor table when Ron came in for lunch, but Harry and Hermione were there, so Ron made his way over. Despite the fact that he sat on Hermione’s other side rather than next to Harry, Harry wolfed his food down and promptly left without so much as a goodbye. Ron rubbed his face with his hands, and when he looked up, Hermione was staring at him.  
  
“Well, whatever you’ve done this time, it’s really bad.” Hermione looked disapprovingly at Ron.  
  
“What did he tell you?”  
  
Hermione’s expression softened. “Not very much. Only that he never wants to talk to you again.”  
  
Ron sighed. He’d been afraid of this. Harry wasn’t joking when he’d refused to forgive Ron. He was still upset and he was going to hold a grudge. And now that Ron had thought about it, he realized Harry’s anger might be justified. At least Hermione was still talking to him…for now.  
  
“Last night, I messed up in a big way. And I’ve tried to apologize, but he won’t accept my apology.” Ron cast a plea for sympathy Hermione’s way.  
  
“What happened?”  
  
After swearing her to secrecy, Ron told Hermione how a voice in his head had told him to take Harry to an unused classroom, how he’d somehow got it in his head to snog Harry – “even though I like girls” – and how he’d apparently tried to force himself on his best mate. Ron left out some of the seedier details, such as the hateful things he’d called Harry and the part where he’d bound him to the desk. “He says he asked me to stop, but Hermione, I swear I couldn’t hear him over that voice in my head. Maybe I’m cracking up.”  
  
Hermione was white as a sheet and obviously disturbed. “You must be, because none of this seems like something you would do. Maybe you were possessed.”  
  
Ron shook his head. “No, that’s what I tried to tell Harry when I talked to him this morning, and he reminded me that you don’t remember what happens when you’re possessed. Unfortunately, I remember everything.”  
  
Ron picked at his food in silence while Hermione stared off into space. After a while she said, “I’m certain that part of the reason Harry is so angry is because he fancies you.”  
  
Ron’s fork clattered to the table. “He what?”  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes in that bossy-know-it-all sort of way. “If you were the least bit observant, you’d have noticed the way he looks at you and how he’s been hanging on your every word. That’s probably why he went along with you at first – it was what he’d been hoping for.”  
  
“Bugger – you’re saying Harry’s gay?”  
  
Hermione snorted. “Try to keep an open mind, Ronald. Some people are attracted to their own sex. And others,” she said, staring directly into Ron’s eyes, “are attracted to both.”  
  
The fifth years were just coming in from Herbology, so they couldn’t continue their conversation any longer. Not that Ron had anything else to say – but he certainly had a lot to think about.  
  
As Ron headed off to Care of Magical Creatures, Hermione called, “Don’t forget we have that Prefects meeting at four o’clock. See you there.”  
  
~*~*~  
  
Malfoy had been staring at Ron the whole meeting, and it was making Ron’s skin crawl. Why couldn’t the little ferret just leave him alone? He tried moving his chair, but he could still feel Malfoy’s eyes on him and it was distracting. He almost didn’t hear Dumbledore’s final order of business, except that Hermione had caught his attention and directed it back to the headmaster.  
  
“As most of you know,” droned Dumbledore, “Hogwarts Castle has security wards that watch over our students and alert teachers to any shenanigans that might occur. Since the beginning of term, one particular ward has been set off twice. This is notable because it is only set off when an Unforgivable curse is cast. Since we have not experienced any unexplained deaths, nor has Madam Pomfrey seen any student with obvious signs of the Cruciatus curse, I can only surmise that a student has managed to learn the Imperius curse and has used it twice.  
  
“The staff has not had any strange occurrences reported to them, nor have we been able to pinpoint who the perpetrator is, so I am asking all Prefects to keep their eyes and ears open, to be alert to circumstances where Imperius might have been used. We have amended the ward to tell us where the infraction is occurring while it is still going on. With any luck, we can catch the person doing this and expel them for breaking the law. Please report any suspicious activities to me personally.”  
  
When Dumbledore and the other Prefects had filed out of the room, Hermione grabbed Ron’s arm. “We should go tell him now, before anything else happens.”  
  
Ron furrowed his brow. “Go tell who what?”  
  
“Dumbledore. About what happened last night.”  
  
“Hermione! I’m not going to say anything to Dumbledore! Do you have any idea how many rules I broke last night? And Harry, too. And I’m telling you, what I did – it was really bad. He’ll throw me out for sure.”  
  
Hermione crossed her arms and glared at Ron sternly. “But it all fits perfectly, don’t you see? That little voice you heard – it had to have been Imperius. Remember when Moody – I mean, Barty Crouch – put it on everybody during our fourth year? It was exactly like a little voice in your head telling you to do something.”  
  
Ron suddenly _did_ remember what Imperius felt like, and it was very similar to the voice that had told him to come on to Harry the night before. Although it made him feel better that he wasn’t going around the twist, Ron was still reluctant to say anything to Dumbledore.  
  
“Look, Hermione, I don’t think Harry would want us to say anything to Dumbledore either. When people…um… have done to them what I almost did to Harry, they don’t want other people to know. It’s embarrassing. And while I’m sure that at the moment he wouldn’t mind me being expelled, how is Gryffindor going to find another Keeper this close to the Slytherin match?”  
  
“Ron, when people are victims of crime they _have_ to tell. Otherwise the criminal will just think they can get away with it again. You and Harry are both victims. You need to report it to Dumbledore.” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. She was adamant on this point, Ron knew.  
  
“I’ll go if Harry agrees,” Ron said with a sigh. “But considering that he’s not talking to me at the moment, you’ll have to tell him. God, what a bloody nightmare.”  
  
~*~*~  
  
It took three hours and confirmation of Dumbledore’s warning from Hannah Abbott before Harry conceded that Ron might have been the person on whom the Imperius curse had been used. It took almost that long again for Hermione to convince Harry and Ron to go to Dumbledore and tell him the abridged version of what had happened. In the end, the compelling argument was that it was probably a Slytherin who did it, and if it was Malfoy, Crabbe or Goyle, they’d be thrown off the Quidditch team and Slytherin would have to find a last-minute replacement.  
  
Dumbledore was quite pleased that they’d come forward, and he refrained from asking any questions that were too embarrassing. He must have sensed that the episode had marred their friendship, because he reminded them of Voldemort’s gift for sowing discord among friends and colleagues. No mention was made of rule breaking or expulsion, so Ron was able to breathe easier once they left Dumbledore’s office.  
  
“Harry,” said Ron as they walked slowly back to Gryffindor tower, “we’re still friends, aren’t we? Because you have to believe me when I say how sorry I am about the things I said and did while I was under the Imperius curse.”  
  
“I know,” Harry said softly. “It was pretty hard for me to believe you’d actually do that. We’re still friends.”  
  
They walked in an awkward silence, neither boy sure of what to say to the other. Finally Ron couldn’t stand it any longer, and he blurted out the question that had been weighing heavily on his mind. “Harry, is it true that you… well, Hermione thinks you… and since you didn’t mind too much at first…”  
  
“Ron, what are you talking about?”  
  
Ron stopped walking. “Hermione says you’re gay and that you fancy me. Is that true?”  
  
Harry looked down at his feet. “Yes, but you don’t have to worry about it because I know you like girls and you only did what you did because of that curse.”  
  
“I _do_ like girls, and I _did_ come on to you last night because of the curse. But Hermione told me something else that I’ve been thinking about all day.”  
  
“What’s that?”  
  
Ron inched closer to Harry, but he didn’t touch him because he was afraid of how Harry would react. “She said that some people are attracted to both girls and boys. I think I might be one of those.” Ron gazed into Harry’s eyes, silently begging Harry to believe him. When Harry did not turn away, Ron slipped a hand around Harry’s waist and pulled him close until their lips met. This time it was not a hard and desperate kiss; it was gentle and probing, promising more but expecting nothing. It was the kind of kiss that he’d shared with the Muggle girl from last summer. He wanted it to last forever.  
  
Harry broke away after about a minute. “Ron, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but I have to know if there’s a little voice in your head that just told you to do that.”  
  
“No, Harry. No little voices. Just me thinking that if we want to continue this, we’d better get out of the corridor.”  
  
Ron grabbed Harry’s hand and led him into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, which was nearby. He proceeded to snog Harry senseless, until their lips were swollen and slightly bruised. Ron was so turned on, he thought he might explode, but after last night’s disaster, he was going to let Harry take the lead.  
  
“Let’s go back to Gryffindor Tower,” Harry whispered after about fifteen minutes. “I don’t want our first time to be bent over a desk or hiding in a disused toilet.”  
  
“I’m pretty good with Silencing charms now,” said Ron. “We could use my bed after the others go to sleep.”  
  
Harry and Ron walked back to Gryffindor Tower hand-in-hand. They never saw the sixth year Prefect from Slytherin House drop his jaw in amazement when he discovered them kissing. Instead of causing a rift between them, Malfoy had inadvertently pushed them together.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Ron woke up with a bed full of Harry, and he couldn’t have been happier about it. He’d finally been able to prove to Harry that sex was, indeed, a great stress-reliever. It was also going to make them late for breakfast if they didn’t get a move on.  
  
Hermione was already in the Great Hall when they arrived. She could see immediately that they’d patched things up between them and she was very relieved.  
  
“Did you hear about Millicent Bulstrode?” she said conversationally. “Someone turned her in as being the one who was doing the Imperius curse. They can’t prove that it was her, of course, but some of the Slytherins are saying she’s mad, so they’ve taken her off to St. Mungo’s for evaluation.”  
  
Ron looked over at the Slytherin table and noticed Malfoy staring at him again. He had this nagging thought that somehow Malfoy was behind the whole Imperius thing, but he’d never be able to prove anything. He glanced from side to side, and seeing no one looking, blew Malfoy a kiss. There. That should teach him to mind his own business.  
  
  
 _finis_


End file.
